


Saving The One Who Needs It Most

by fee_fi_fo_fannibal913



Category: Hannibal (TV), King Arthur (2004)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1189362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fee_fi_fo_fannibal913/pseuds/fee_fi_fo_fannibal913
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Tristan and Galahad felt more for each other than what was expected of two knights battling along side one another? What if their bond was stronger?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own King Arthur(2004) or any of its characters. 
> 
> This fic takes place during the movie once the knights bring back the bishop and follows the plot with my own twists thrown in. This is only my second fic, so I'm still getting the hang of things. If there are any grammatical errors pleaase let me know. Most of all, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!~

“I don’t like him, the Roman. He’s here to discharge us, why doesn’t he just give us our papers?” Galahad was complaining as usual to any other knight who would listen. He wore a frown on his face that seemed as though it would stay like that if his attitude didn’t change.

“Is this your happy face?” Gawain poked fun at Galahad on many occasions, but for some reason, it brought a smile to the young man’s face.

Arthur and his knights were returning home from their final quest in protecting the bishop. Being together for so long, they created a pattern to ride in without even realizing it: Arthur in the front, Gawain, Bors, and Galahad in the middle, with Tristan bringing up the rear. Lancelot and Dagonet were tying up some loose-ends somewhere, and was typical for the active knights. Their job never seemed to be over. This is how it always was and they believed how it would always remain.

“Galahad, do you still not know the Romans? They won’t scratch their asses without holding a ceremony,” Galahad scoffed again because he knew how right Gawain was. Still, the thought of any further interaction with these Romans made Galahad’s skin crawl.

“Why don’t you just kill ‘im and discharge yourself after?” Bors broke the one-on-one conversation between Galahad and Gawain to bring up his own valid point. To the other knights, killing was nothing, to Galahad, it was everything.

“I don’t kill for pleasure, unlike some.”

“Well you should try it someday. You might get a taste for it.” Galahad laughed at Tristan’s remark, but found himself frowning once more soon after. He didn’t dare look back to see the look of disdain in Tristan’s eyes. He couldn’t bare it.

“It’s a part of you, it’s in your blood.” Although it was Bors who had spoke, the young knight’s mind was on the scout. Galahad was used to being picked on by the other knights, but for some reason, Tristan’s observation shook his core. _What if I do get a taste for it? No._

“No, no, no,” Galahad gave a short chuckle, “No. As of tomorrow, this was all just a bad memory.” Bors gave a drawn out ‘Oh,’ as a response and ended the debate.

~

Nearing the kingdom, the knight’s pattern disbanded and a new one took its place: Arthur still in front, Galahad and Tristan now side-by-side, Bors and Gawain behind them, with Lancelot and Dagonet finally joining the others in the back.

Galahad could hear Bors and Gawain mumbling about something, but didn’t pay attention. His mind was too busy thinking about what Tristan had said and how it actually affected him. He didn’t quite know the answer, but the one thing Galahad did know was that he needed to get out of this ‘business’ before he was truly scarred beyond repair, a mindless killer just like the rest of his companions. Galahad knew that his fellow knights were good men, but he didn’t want to become numb to war as they did. The thought of it scarred him. Galahad’s day dreaming ( _nightmaring?_ ) came to an end only when he heard a whistling to his right. He looked over to see Tristan with his hand out, calling to his falcon. 

“Where you been, eh? Where you been?” As Tristan cooed to his beloved friend, Galahad found himself staring. The scout and his bird fitting each other so perfectly that Galahad couldn’t take his eyes away. Tristan stroked his bird and continued asking it questions as though it would answer. The look in Tristan’s eyes was of pure love and devotion, a look Galahad didn’t see on the ruthless brute quite often. He wanted to ask so many questions, _How did you get this relationship started? How long has it been since you two found each other? How **did** you find each other? What’s its name?_ , but stopped his young curiosity from taking over for fear of ruining their moment together. It was like watching a father and daughter embrace after a long absence. Galahad was smart enough to realize that outsiders weren’t welcome to this reunion, so he settled on watching them from his own horse, not interfering.

Tristan could feel Galahad’s eyes on him from the moment the young knight started watching him and his falcon. He made no move to tease the man or make him feel uncomfortable for his actions, Tristan only continued to pet his bird and give it some much needed attention. Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan could see Galahad smiling at his display. Galahad smiling wasn’t something that happened on a regular basis, so Tristan tried to bask in it without making it seem too obvious. The young man had always stood out to Tristan, his personality always going to extremes. One minute the boy acted like there was no point in living anymore under the rule of these Romans while the next he was going on about how killing was wrong and everyone was a horrible person for thinking otherwise. Tristan didn’t understand it, but he felt as though he didn’t have to. Just being around Galahad had given Tristan a new outlook on many ideas that he himself already thought he mastered. This new challenge was a good change for Tristan, so he only thought he should return the favor by challenging Galahad as well. If that meant the boy started second guessing himself in matters he held true to his heart, so be it. Tristan only thought of this as collateral damage to Galahad’s psyche.

Galahad looked away from Tristan when he heard Arthur talking about freedom to Lancelot. The idea seemed so abstract to Galahad, but Arthur helped to make it clearer. Galahad sighed and tried to look forward to the drinking and celebration that would take place later tonight. _Perhaps then would be a good time to ask Tristan about him and his falcon._

~

The group brought their horses to a gallop and paraded into the city with the carriage of Romans behind them, small villager children following in their wake. After dismounting and Arthur telling the Bishop where he could stay, the group dove further into their temporary home. Bors spotted his lover and as usual, ended up passionately making out much to Galahad’s amusement. Their relationship would always intrigue the knight. One minute, she was slapping him and calling him a fool, the next, it seems as though they needed some serious privacy. On top of that, after these hot and cold events, Bors could snap into father mode in a matter of seconds. Galahad had admired him for that and knew he wanted a family of his own one day. One day soon.

Galahad was still smiling after Bors' small encounter and looked around the village, finally landing his eyes on Tristan. The man was already staring at him, making Galahad feel slightly off-balance. To cover up his reaction, Galahad coughed and turned his eyes down to look at his muddied boots. Tristan began walking over to the younger knight and asked him a question Galahad couldn’t quite hear.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Tristan smirked, “I asked if there was anyone you were expecting to meet. It looked as though you were looking for someone a moment ago.” Galahad blushed. He had been looking for someone. And he found him.

Galahad coughed again, “Uh, no. I was just. Taking in the scenery. Not going to be here much longer.” He had hoped his lie was good enough to convince Tristan, but he could sense that the man could see right through his façade. His face reddening further, Galahad prayed for a distraction, anything to get him out of this. Tristan standing this close, almost looming over him, with his perfect falcon, was beginning to be too much for Galahad and he didn’t know why. Just as he was starting to think God didn’t love him, he heard Arthur’s voice over the crowd, calling for the knights to meet him at the Round Table. Galahad breathed a sigh of relief and followed Tristan through the crowd, still staring at his own mud-caked boots as he did so.

~

“I knew I didn’t like that Roman! What the hell do you think they’re talking about?” The meeting had been a normal one, a pat on the back, a quick pep-talk, until the Bishop showed up demanding privacy. Galahad wasted no time after being dismissed to start complaining about how this was unfair and he has the right to know what’s going on, “And why did you keep that cup?”

Tristan was twirling the gift from the Bishop around his finger, occasionally stopping to polish it whenever he saw a smudge, “It is worth a lot of money, is it not?”

“Well…yes. But, it is almost like you're falling directly in the Bishop’s trap to woo you and then take everything that is yours. It is what all Romans do. You cannot trust them with anything. Even if it _is_ only a cup.”

“I do not remember falling into a trap. I only remember taking what was rightfully given to me.”

“Yes, but-“ Galahad started to whine further until Lancelot told him to shut up. He immediately closed his mouth and went to staring at each floor tile as he passed by. Tristan continued playing with his cup, but never stopped observing Galahad. It looked as though he was a child that had just been reprimanded by his mother. Tristan couldn’t keep himself from grinning into the gold shine of his gift.

“Okay, now that we got all that _shit_ outta the way, let’s celebrate!” Bors’ voice boomed in the corridor, but Galahad smiled nonetheless. _One extreme to another._ Tristan shook his head and stuck his cup into the waist of his pants for safe keeping. Tristan could sense what the Bishop’s plan was, but didn’t want Galahad to go back to his other extreme. A happy Galahad was much more fun at celebrations.


	2. Preparation

Gawain was throwing knives with Tristan, Lancelot was playing a drinking game with some guards, Bors was playing with his newborn (questioning its origin), and Galahad had a young woman in his lap, each laughing hilariously at nothing particularly funny. After getting bored with his girl, Galahad decided he would give a try in throwing knives. He supposed if the other knights could do it, so could he. He threw a knife and it landed around where he hoped it would and Galahad was quite proud of himself. That was until Tristan threw his own knife from a greater distance and pierced Galahad’s, dead-center.

“Tristan, how do you do that?”

“I aim for the middle.”

Galahad found himself bursting out in laughter; he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or if Tristan actually made him laugh that hard, but he didn’t care. Tears started rolling down his cheeks and he gasped for air in between giggles. Tristan regarded him with a wink and a smirk, silencing Galahad. The knight stared at the scout for what seemed like eternity and once again burst into tears from embarrassment. Tristan stepped closer to Galahad and grabbed his drink, gulping it down in one swallow. Galahad opened his mouth to protest, but Tristan cut him off.

“I think you had enough for tonight, hm?” Galahad smiled in response and pushed Tristan away with his hands pressed against Tristan’s chest. Galahad could feel the warmth of Tristan’s skin seeping through his clothes, making Galahad’s hands linger. Galahad looked up into Tristan’s chocolate eyes and saw what Galahad had thought was only reserved for a certain falcon. Galahad gasped as Tristan’s strong hand was placed on Galahad’s neck, causing shivers to go down his spine. Galahad closed his eyes as Tristan’s right arm wrapped around his waist and pulled them close. Tristan leaned down to whisper something into Galahad’s ear only to be interrupted by Bors’ fat mouth. The pair turned and released their position to see what was going on.

“Shut up! Now sing.” All of the men started chanting for Bors’ lover to sing, Galahad suggesting a song about home. She smirked and looked around, swaying with a baby on her hip.

“ _~Land of bear and land of eagle_

_Land that gave us birth and blessing_

_Land that called us ever homewards_

_We will go home across the mountains_

_We will go home, we will go home_

_We will go home across the mountains~”_

Each of the men found themselves reflecting on their lives. Normally her songs would bring them joy, but tonight, it felt as though she was singing their last rights. Galahad frowned as usual, but this time he was not alone, all of the faces of the other knights mirroring his own. Galahad began to silently sing along, needing the anchor of home to get him through the day. Tristan stayed behind him, ever watching, and munched on an apple. He wanted to feel nostalgic or homesick, but there was nothing for him to feel that way for. He had nothing other than this life as a scout. _And Galahad._ He looked at the young knight, wondering if it was a gift to have a home to look forward to or a curse. Tristan took another bite of his apple and savored the taste, wondering about the past, present, and future at the same time, disappointingly finding that he was growing bored with his own mind. Galahad was savoring the song, just as Tristan was the apple and found that he had the opposite problem that Tristan had. The past, present, and future, were everything to him and caused a dull ache in his stomach from worry. _It’s going to be alright. I’m going home._ Galahad smiled.

The song ending and Galahad heard Arthur’s name being called, bringing him back to reality. Galahad called out to his leader joyfully, made a snide comment, and got a cold stare in return. It worried Galahad further and made his stomach flip. Tristan kept eating his apple.

“Knights, brothers in arms, your courage has been tested beyond all limits. But I must ask you for one further trial,” Bors told him to drink and Galahad giggled, taking a swig of a new jug to ease his nerves, “We must leave on a final mission for Rome,” Tristan finally looked up, “Before our freedom can be granted. Above the wall in the far North, there is a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons,” The air of the room turned from joyful to serious as Arthur continued, “Our orders are to secure their safety.”

“Our duty, if it was ever a duty, is done.” Galahad slurred his words through his drunken state, but still made them clear enough to have the conviction in his words unmistakable, “Our pact with Rome is done.”

“These are our orders. We leave at first light and when we return your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom that we can embrace with honor.” At Arthur’s remark, Bors exploded.

“I’m a free man! I will choose my own fate!” He turned to tend to his crying child.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re all going to die someday. If it’s a death from a Saxon hand that frightens you, stay home.” Tristan seemed unfazed at the thought of another battle and it killed Galahad.

“Listen, if you’re so eager to die you can die right now!” Galahad hated himself for saying those words, but he was so angry and drunk that he couldn’t stop them from coming out. Galahad swung a fist at Tristan only to be stopped by Lancelot before he could reach the scout. He turned and screamed to Arthur, “I have got something to live for!”

Tristan sliced more of his apple.

“The Romans have broken their word, we have the word of Arthur. That is good enough. I’ll prepare,” It was the first time Dagonet had spoken that evening and he couldn’t have picked a better time. He turned and acknowledged Bors, “You coming?”

“Of course I’m coming! Can’t let you go on your own! You all’d get killed! I’m just sayin’ what you’re all thinking!”

“And you Gawain?”

He nodded, “I’m with you. Galahad as well.” Galahad laughed a sorrowful chuckle, poured out the rest of his drink, and broke the jar on the stone floor. Gawain tried to gain eye contact, but failed as Galahad walked right by him. Tristan followed, leaving Arthur and Lancelot to talk. Galahad grumbled to himself, kicking piles of dirt as he went by, unaware of the scout’s presence behind him.

Galahad trudged through the streets of the town until he arrived at their sleeping quarters, mentally preparing himself to pack for one last job. Galahad pulled the large oak doors open by its iron handles, only for it to be slammed shut by much stronger, much bigger hands.

“Why prepare if it means nothing to you?” Galahad jumped back to face his accuser and stared into his once again, uncaring eyes. Galahad scoffed.

“Why do you?” Tristan smirked and released the door.

After a short pause, Tristan answered, “Mostly because I have nothing better to do.” Despite it all, Galahad felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards. It was a sad smile, but a smile, nonetheless. Tristan took it as a success.

“Why ask me at all?”

“Curious.” Tristan pushed past the door and into the chambers with a dumbfounded Galahad trailing behind him. The older man had never taken interest in the young knight before and it threw Galahad off, his mind reeling to find a reason. _Is he just poking fun again? Does he think I don’t have what it takes to be a knight under the rule of Arthur? Surely I have proven myself many times over. Perhaps my lack of joy for killing makes me more of a target for him._ Tristan and Galahad walked one behind the other until arriving at their rooms. Tristan turned to face his own chamber and let out a yawn, “Goodnight.” He slammed his door in a shocked Galahad’s face.

_Goodnight? When the hell did Tristan say things like that? To anyone? Let alone me._ Galahad choked out a short ‘goodnight’ and turned to his own room to ponder Tristan’s actions further. They were really starting to get to him.

Tristan removed his dirtied clothing and climbed into his small cot, knowing he would need all of the sleep he could get for their journey tomorrow. He chuckled to himself, hoping his out of character remark hadn’t shaken Galahad to the point of losing sleep.

Of course, it did. Galahad found himself staying awake hours after having laid down to rest and it bothered him. Tossing and turning, Galahad tried to find the answer, but never found it. Early at dawn, the young knight got up and dressed, heading to the horses to finish any preparations needed for the next day.

~

Galahad had been the first to arrive at the stables, with Dagonet, Bors, Arthur, and Lancelot trickling in soon after. Each had their own tasks that needed to be accomplished and Galahad’s was getting more quality time with his horse. The stead had grown used to Galahad in their many battles together, but the man knew that relationships were important when it came to your trusted horse. Galahad continued working on different difficult maneuvers in the small space of the stable while Tristan walked in, sword in hand. Galahad tensed at the pure charisma the man held just by simply walking into the room. The horse immediately sensed the change and began to get spooked, stopping around and almost hitting Bors.

“Oi, watch your beast.”

“Sorry,” As Galahad struggled to regain control; Tristan stepped forward and stroked the horse’s nose. The animal immediately calmed in Tristan’s hand and Galahad let out a sigh of relief. Tristan looked up at Galahad and nodded in a motion telling Galahad to dismount the horse. He complied and returned the horse to its stall, thinking the poor animal was traumatized enough for one morning. Galahad tried to thank Tristan, but the scout lifted his hand telling the young man not to worry and finished his gesture with a wink. Galahad was still blushing when the Roman came in. His boyish embarrassment turned to pure hatred, making his pink cheeks turn a dark crimson. Tristan seemed unaffected and proceeded to scratch off some dirt or blood left on his sword from their last exertion.

The Roman stopped directly in front of Galahad and began speaking to Arthur. Galahad didn’t hear a word because of the screaming going on in his mind. _How dare this piece of shit walk in front of me, acting like I mean nothing. I have killed for him. My friends have died for him, and this is how he treats me? He takes me away from my home, takes away my freedom, and expects me to just stand here?_ Galahad thought about what he would be doing right now if it weren’t for these Romans. Probably still celebrating, drinking, listening to songs, the townspeople worshipping them, saying goodbye to his friends, his partners in war his… _Tristan_. Galahad shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought. He wasn’t sure which was more odd, the fact that he would never see the knights again or the fact that he thought of Tristan in particular.  The Roman left, making Galahad’s mind become anchored to the situation once more.

“Wait, what just happened?”

“It seems we have another traveler with us.” Galahad looked over at Tristan with wide, unbelieving eyes and stared back into uncaring, nonchalant ones. Galahad went back to his grumbling and Arthur informed the knights that they would be leaving in one hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying the story :) I will try to make daily updates around this time, but may have to skip a couple from time to time. Bottom line, this story WILL be completed. Thanks for reading!


	3. Royal Family

The men had already been traveling for many days through storms and thick forests, but seemed unfazed. Each was used to the physical labor and almost came to enjoy it because of the freedom the journey promised. The spell of the trek was only broken once Tristan rode up to Arthur.

“Woads. They’re tracking us.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

Just as Tristan finished, arrows with tails of thorn-covered vines flew out from the trees directly in front of the men’s horses. Arthur tried to changed direction, each men moving as one, but was stopped again on a small dirt road by the same type of arrows. Lancelot shouted a quick, “Get back!” and the men changed course once again. With Galahad in front, he stormed through the bush into a seemingly open patch of land only to be blocked by wooden, spiked fences. The young man turned his head in defeat, looking for another way out, only to see Tristan and Gawain narrowly missing an attack of more arrows. Arthur shouted more orders of where to go and the men followed, knowing Arthur would not lead them intentionally to danger. The men drew their weapons once they realized they had come full circle and were now surrounded by their attackers.

Tristan aimed his bow at the painted man closest to Galahad, knowing he would put an arrow through his head if the man stepped any closer to the young knight. Hearing a horn signal, the men retreated, making Galahad release a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Galahad asked the question on everyone’s mind.

“Why would they not attack?”   

“Merlin doesn’t want us dead.” Galahad looked oddly at Arthur while the other knights accepted what he said and moved on, returning to their journey.

~

After arriving at their destination, Tristan rode ahead, keeping an eye on the surrounding area. Galahad hated that Tristan had to leave on his own, but he knew bringing it up the issue would only insult the scout making it seem like Galahad didn’t trust in his abilities. So, the chatty knight kept his mouth shut for once.

Arthur made arrangements with the royal family once Arthur was able to convince the father to come with the knights. As the family was getting ready to leave, Arthur started to scan the surrounding area.

Knowing Arthur and his mannerisms, when Galahad saw the man hanging on the makeshift stand, he knew they wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. Although Galahad admired Arthur for his kind heart, he was anxious to get back on the road and keep moving. Partly because of the Saxons, partly because he knew Tristan would return once they left. Galahad wiped his face with the palm of his hand and watched Arthur make a huge scene in freeing the man and promising to take the village with them. _Ok, great, we saved him. We have more passengers. Can we go now?_ Galahad began pacing with his horse when he heard a voice that melted his cold exterior.

“They have flanked us to the East. They are coming from the South, trying to cut off our escape. They’ll be here before nightfall.” Galahad didn’t care about the news the voice brought. He only cared that the voice was with him and he didn’t have to worry about him anymore. Tristan and Arthur continued to talk about the strategy the group needed to take, but Galahad couldn’t focus on what they were saying. The only thing he could focus on was Tristan. The young knight tried to absorb everything about the man: his braided, brunette hair, the look of determination in his eyes, the tattooed symbols on his face. Galahad did this because he knew any day, any minute, could be their last and he never wanted to forget how Tristan made him feel. Galahad was slowly starting to accept the reality that Tristan was starting to mean more to him than a simple battle buddy and it frightened him. His main fear being that Tristan didn’t feel the same. Galahad felt a pain growing in his lower stomach. The pain quickly turning into butterflies when he heard Tristan’s sad scoff.

“Then we’ll never make it.” Galahad assumed he was talking about all of the extra people they were taking and tried to interject that they should really start moving, but before he could, a building caught Arthur’s eye.

“Open this door!” _Here we go again._ Galahad rolled his eyes knowing that Arthur would likely save every person in the world if he could. The look in Arthur’s eyes told Galahad that Arthur of thought this shack was important than making a speedy get away and questioned the guards about it. Galahad groaned until he felt a presence by his side. Looking over, Galahad saw Tristan watching Arthur intently making Galahad feel a pang of jealously. He knew it was idiotic, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking in that manner. He needed to get Tristan’s attention somewhere else or he felt as though he would jump off his horse and punch Arthur in the face.

“Do you not hear the drums?” Unfortunately Galahad’s ruse to get Tristan to notice him did not work, in fact, it seemed as though no one noticed him. Dagonet stepped forward and began breaking down the stone wall of the building under Arthur’s orders. Galahad sighed and decided that nothing he could say would get them moving faster, so he just accepted that he would have to wait.

After the main door was broken into, the knights filed into the building with Galahad and Tristan keeping guard outside, ensuring their companions would not be interrupted. Galahad looked over at Tristan to see his sword unsheathed and pointed at different members of the royal family’s guard. Galahad coughed and drew out his own weapon, trying to seem as menacing as his partner, not even coming close. To the guards, it looked like a puppy trying to compete with a wolf. After a few minutes and no sign of the others, Galahad began to feel uncomfortable. Wanting to ask Tristan of his short trek by himself, Galahad tried to think of a question that wouldn’t make him seem stupid or naïve in the scout’s eyes.

“So, uh. What did you see out there?” _Smooth Galahad, real smooth._

“Many Saxons.”

“Oh. Do you think we will out run them?”

“No.” Galahad opened his mouth to say more, but Tristan seemed to be back to his normal self. Not saying more than what was needed and not caring what others thought of him for doing so. Galahad felt the sinking feeling once again until Lancelot and the others emerged with sick and tortured people in their arms; more specifically, Arthur came out holding a young woman and Dagonet came out holding a young boy. Tristan put his sword back in his place. Arthur tended to the girl’s wounds and assured her she would be safe. Galahad could see the jealousy in Lancelot’s eyes and hoped the feelings wouldn’t interfere with their tight-knit group.

“What is this madness?” Arthur looked up from the girl only to confront the father of the royal family.

“They’re all pagans here!” The man shouted; spit flying out of his mouth with each word.

“So are we.” Tristan looked at Galahad, surprised at the young man’s retaliation.

Arthur continued to fight with the royal until the man was lying on his back with a sword to his throat. Galahad could see the rage that was consuming Arthur and felt sorry for whoever stood in his way. Finally, one of the two men responsible for the tortures explained why they did what they did.

“I was willing to die with them. Yes, to lead them to their rightful place. It’s God’s wish that these sinners be sacrificed. Only then can their souls be saved.” The man starred innocently at Arthur and awaited his response.

“Then I shall grant his wish. Wall them back up.”

“Arthur.” Galahad looked to Tristan, shocked at the scout. It was the first time Galahad had seen Tristan try to go against Arthur’s orders and caused goose bumps to rise all over Galahad’s body. Tristan’s attitude had changed again, perhaps for the better and Galahad felt himself get excited.

“I said wall them up!” A few villagers ran to obey Arthur’s orders as the rest of the knights turned around and began the preparations to set off once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, updates! And thank you for the kudos, they really help :)


	4. The First Wave

Riding into the mountains, Tristan was reunited with his falcon and had her with him as their journey continued. Galahad tried to keep up with the scout as much as possible, but found himself needed elsewhere helping the villagers keep up the pace, so Galahad fell back. Arthur called back to Galahad telling him they were stopping soon and to come up near the front. Galahad yelled and kicked at his horses sides and rode to the head of the line as though his life depended on it. The knights gathered towards the front, Arthur telling them where they were going to camp. Arthur pointed out a seemingly sheltered area of trees that allowed enough room for the group to comfortably rest.

“We’ll sleep here. Take shelter in those trees. Tristan.”

“You wanna go out again? Yeah.” Tristan tapped the bird under its beak and extended his arm to allow her to take flight. Watching it go, Tristan turned towards the open road and galloped away. Galahad paused to watch the bird fly away, admiring its grace, only to realize the others had already left him behind; Galahad once again yipped at his horse and rode off to catch up with his fellow knights.

~

When he had arrived at the campground, Galahad looked around to discover Tristan already gone. Sighing, he jumped off his horse and began preparing a sleeping area for himself, his mind always on Tristan. In case the scout decided to return early, Galahad made a second bed out of blankets in his own tent. He knew Tristan would be tired when he returned back, so Galahad thought he would do the man a favor by giving him a warm place to stay. Galahad stood back and admired his small tent with its two bed places, scratched the back of his head, and chuckled. Thinking of Tristan snoring next to him in the night after a hard days work made Galahad feel warm in the pit of his stomach. It all just seemed so unreal; the scout actually relaxing for once. Galahad laughed harder as his day dream turned to Tristan all snuggled up and cozy in his blankets.

“What’s so funny?” Galahad spun around to see Gawain standing behind him, a mischievous smile on his face. 

“Oh, uh, nothing. Just thought of something Bors said earlier.” Galahad chuckled again, this time with embarrassment making his voice crack and turning his cheeks red.

“Ah, is that all? Well, then. Who is that second bed place for?” Gawain crossed his arms and smiled further. Galahad gulped and felt his mouth go dry.

“Um, me.”

“You?” Gawain looked at Galahad curiously, taken aback with the answer, “I thought you might have actually found someone to take to bed with you for once. Lord knows Arthur has. Seems like Lancelot has too.” Gawain went back to his smirking.

“Yeah, uh, no. I just like to stretch out when I am resting.” Galahad twisted his hands together and shuffled his feet, trying to release some of his nervous energy. He could already feel a bead of sweat drip down his forehead despite the cold.

“You always were an odd one, Galahad.” Gawain tussled Galahad’s hair and patted him on the back with enough force to make Galahad almost trip over his own feet. Gawain turned around, waiving Galahad a goodnight from behind his back, and disappeared into the rest of the camp. Galahad sunk to his knees. _That was way too close._ Taking off his snow-soaked clothes, Galahad got into his warmer armor and laid down in his tent now set up for two. Sleep came to him quickly when Galahad was able to focus on an image of Tristan galloping with him through the snow, uncaring that they were leaving the quest for the Romans, that was all Galahad wanted, them to leave and guarantee their safety. Galahad smiled in his sleep and hoped his dreams would eventually become a reality.

~

Galahad awoke to the screaming of a young boy and Dagonet’s grunts. The young knight threw on some extra clothes and jumped out of his tent, tripping over his blanket as he did so. After picking himself up and wiping some dirt-filled snow off of his face, Galahad untied his horse and rode to where he had heard the commotion. The young knight arrived only to find the conflict over and the husband of the royal family with an arrow in his chest. Shortly after Galahad, Bors arrived shouting at the top of his lungs with his battle-ax raised high in air.

“Artorius!” He paused and examined the scene, “Are we going to have a problem? Huh?” Bors nudged the offending officers that caused the commotion with his horse and Galahad chuckled. Although Bors was late, he sure knew how to make an intense entrance. Once Arthur made it perfectly clear that the guards would be killed if they did not cooperate, Galahad heard a neigh from a horse a short distance away. His heart skipped a beat. Bors turned his horse around and acknowledged the returning scout, “How many did you kill?”

“Four.”

“Not a bad start to the day!” Bors laughed as Tristan threw an empty bow at Arthur’s feet.

“Armor-piercing. They’re close. We have no time.”

“You ride ahead.” Galahad felt his heart fall into his stomach and had to lean over to stop himself from vomiting. Tristan lifted his eyes and looked to Galahad. Before leaving, the scout had his horse saunter over to the knight and put his hand on his back.

“Everything will be fine. I will be fine. As will you.” Galahad uncurled from his crouched position on his horse and looked up to Tristan. He felt his eyes burning with tears he refused to release. All Galahad did in response was to give Tristan a sad smile and put his own hand on Tristan’s shoulder. The scout smirked and rode off without another word. Galahad sighed and took his place among Arthur and the other knights. 

~

Tristan couldn’t stop thinking of those crystal-like eyes as he rode through the forest; those blue eyes that seemed to know everything and nothing all at the same time. Tristan noticed that Galahad would feel physical pain whenever Arthur had him go on his own and knowing that made the scout feel…strange. No other had ever worried about Tristan’s well-being as Galahad did. It made Tristan very curious. He kicked for his horse to pick up speed as he tried to locate the Saxon army. It didn’t take long for Tristan to spot them, a long line of grungy looking man-beasts that Tristan could smell high up on the hill he was perched on. His horse snorted, causing two lookouts to turn around in line. Instead of killing them like he normally would, Tristan faded into the trees and hid out of sight. Surprised at his own behavior Tristan turned to return to Arthur and his knights and… _Galahad. Is that why I didn’t put myself in harm’s way? To spare him the pain of me returning wounded?_  Tristan laughed out loud knowing Galahad must really have had an impact on him if it stopped the scout from his normal murderous ways.

Trudging through the snow and wind, Tristan caught up with the others quicker than he had hoped. His quick return meant the Saxons were only a matter of hours away. Tristan took his place in the group next to Galahad, much to the young knight’s delight. Galahad began to talk to Tristan about what the scout had missed while on his journey, all of it seemingly unimportant. Despite the grim circumstances, Tristan smiled at each small story Galahad had to offer, making their horses walk together as close as possible, their legs almost touching. Galahad noticed right away and blushed, his speech becoming quick and quivered, punctuated by short chuckles. Tristan smiled and nudged Galahad with his elbow, laughing along with him. Galahad found himself wishing that it could be like this forever, knowing that it never would.

~

After a few more hours, the long train of people arrived at a frozen lake and began to cross over. Once they were about a quarter of the way over, it became apparent that the ice was beginning to give under the tremendous weight. A beating of the drums in the background began to grow louder as the knights progressed.

“Stay behind me,” Tristan dismounted his horse and began to walk along the ice, hearing the creaking with each step. Galahad did as he was told and eased off his own horse, following in Tristan’s footsteps.

Arthur stopped once the creaking and the drums seemed to become in sync with each other. Without turning around Arthur spoke, “Knights…”

It was Bors who answered, “Well I’m tired of running. And these Saxons are so close behind my ass is hurtin’.” Not even Galahad cracked a smile at the comment, each of the knights too busy mentally preparing themselves for what was coming next.

“Never liked looking over my shoulder anyway,” Tristan looked to Dagonet and received a smirk.

“Be a pleasure to put an end to this racket.” Gawain turned to Arthur.

“And finally get a look at these bastards.” Galahad looked to Tristan and turned to Arthur.

Arthur nodded at his men and began given orders about what had to be done about the villagers to ensure their safety. Galahad didn’t listen and walked over to Tristan, standing a foot away. Without warning, Tristan grasped the back of Galahad’s head and brought their foreheads together.   

“We will prevail.” Tristan’s hot breath heated Galahad’s lips, making the younger knight’s mouth tingle. He opened his mouth and fully breathed in all that was Tristan. He smelled of outside, of dirt and snow, but was not unpleasant in any way. Tristan smelled like a man, but lacked the usual sour undertones of a male’s stench. Galahad leaned in further as Tristan wrapped his arm around Galahad as he did before this entire nightmare began.

“I know.” And with that, Tristan released the breathless Galahad and each took their place in line, ready to take on their enemies.

~

After a few moments, the two hundred men appeared on the other side of the lake and started shouting commands. An archer tried to reach the knights with his arrow, but failed horribly after not being anywhere close to their target. Tristan and Bors retaliated by killing four of their men with simply better technique in archery. Galahad internally cheered for Tristan, but did not let it out, knowing this battle was far from over. This display of superior skill caused the Saxons to march further and for the fight to truly begin.

Arthur ordered the knights to try to bunch the Saxons, making their weight all in one place. At first the strategy seemed to be working, but the ice was too thick and bared the army. Dagonet ran forward and began hitting the ice with his ax to break it up himself. Arthur yelled for the other knights too cover Dagonet, the Saxon leader yelled the opposite, telling his men to aim at the lone man. Dagonet’s vulnerability lead to him being pierced by three arrows in his chest; each of the arrows slicing through his armor as though it were butter. Despite his injuries, Dagonet roared and continued hammering the ice until he accomplished his duty, finally falling into the freezing water. Arthur called after him, running to his aid, pulling him from the breaking lake. Tristan took a moment to look over at the shocked Galahad and saw him shaking all over. The scout wished that he could comfort the man, but knew he had to protect his leader with all of his ability. Before looking away, Tristan managed to see Galahad’s mood shift from shocked to outraged and scream a battle cry, killing a Saxon with one arrow through the chest plate. Tristan smirked and returned to killing Saxons himself.

With the help of Bors, Arthur pulled Dagonet closer to the group. Within feet of the knights, Bors screamed for help with Tristan and Gawain answering his call. Galahad looked to see a Saxon aim his bow directly at the scout. With another hatred-filled shout, Galahad killed the Saxon, putting an end to Tristan’s immediate danger.

Even with Saxons drowning to death and shouting to their fellow army members, everything fell silent to the knights when they had realized Dagonet’s fate. Bors’ screaming for the man to wake up sounded muffled and unclear to the men as they began to mourn their fallen comrade. Tristan walked over to Galahad, placing his arm around the young man’s shoulder. At this gesture, Galahad broke down and began to dry heave into Tristan’s chest. The other men looked over at the pair, curious of the change in attitude from both of them; none of the knights actually having enough energy or motivation to inquire as to what was going on.


	5. The Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly fluff :) more action coming up!

The knights and their fellow travelers arrived back at the kingdom in a much different fashion from the time before. The villagers were still cheering at their arrival and the bishop welcomed them back with open arms, but a veil of sorrow still covered Arthur and his knights. Galahad wondered how one place could make you feel so different depending on the company you kept. Even though Dagonet wasn’t much of a talker, there seemed to be an unsettling silence that shrouded their temporary home.

The bishop turned from the knights and started to coo over the rescued son of the royal family, much to the teenager’s dismay. While the attention was pointed towards that single area, Lucan ran to his foster father’s funeral carriage. Before a guard was able to stop the boy, Galahad pulled out his sword and held it at the man’s throat, stopping him in his tracks, daring the guard to move. The guard only gulped. Tristan looked to Galahad and crossed his arms, knowing the exact emotions the young knight was experiencing.

As Lucan took a ring as a memento to remember Dagonet by, the bishop stepped forward, telling Arthur and his knights to come and receive their papers, guaranteeing their freedom. Lancelot was the lone knight to step up and take all of his companion’s certificates, handing them out one by one. Galahad was the first to receive his and immediately left, not even glancing back to the others. Once all of the papers were passed out, the other knights left as well, all except for Tristan. The scout stood in front of the guard holding the box their papers used to be carried in. Tristan eyed the box, felt it for its quality, and closed it, taking it out of the guard’s hands as he did. _For Dagonet._

~

At the fallen knight’s funeral, Tristan handed the box to Gawain to be put on the grave, along with his sword. Galahad stood by Tristan, needing the man’s strength to keep calm and collected. Tristan didn’t embrace Galahad the way he did at the battle, but he didn’t need to. Galahad could feel the comfort radiating off of the scout and it was all he needed to carry on. Galahad felt his breathing even out as his body mirrored Tristan’s rhythm. Arthur left his men to mourn on their own with Guinevere in his wake. Tristan soon started to walk towards the forest with Galahad following him shortly after. It was only Bors that remained and talked to Dagonet as if he were still with them. Bors poured the remnants of his drink onto Dagonet’s grave and sighed, laying down next to his fallen comrade’s resting place.

When Tristan and Galahad had walked through the forest for what seemed like a couple hours, Tristan stopped and sat on the mossy ground. Galahad walked over to Tristan and sat next to him, their shoulders touching.

“Tristan, I-“

“Shh,” Galahad looked a Tristan’s profile seeing his eyes closed and the scout taking a deep breath. Tristan shivered as he exhaled and Galahad wondered why. His question was answered when he saw a small tear escape from the scout’s eye. Without thinking, Galahad reached up and swept it away with his thumb. At the gesture, Tristan opened his eyes and faced Galahad.

“I, uh. Um-“

“Now what did I just say? You speak too much.” Galahad opened his mouth to answer Tristan, but was silenced when he found the scout’s lips pressed against his own. At first, it was only a small peck, but the kiss soon evolved into something more passionate.

Tristan pushed against Galahad, causing the young knight to fall back and use his elbows to keep him in a somewhat upright position. Tristan hovered over Galahad, placing his two hands on each side of the young knight, trapping him to the ground. Galahad moved his arms out from under Tristan and wrapped them around the scout’s neck, deepening their kiss. Tristan answered by exploring the young knight’s mouth with his tongue. At first, Galahad tensed, but he soon melted into the motion, letting Tristan take over. Galahad could feel his heart pounding in his chest and let himself dive into the sensation of Tristan all around him.

All too quickly, Tristan pulled back with a slight grunt and stared down at Galahad. Much to Galahad’s delight, he could see that passion in the scout’s eyes once again that he saw that day long ago when Tristan was admiring his falcon.

“I did not think you felt the same.” Galahad looked away from Tristan, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and exposed. Galahad started to squirm under Tristan’s weight, not wanting to offend the scout, but finding he was too fidgety to stay still. Tristan only gave a small chuckle and leaned down further to whisper in Galahad’s ear, adding more weight to keep the knight in place and unmoving.

“Perhaps you think too much as well,” Galahad smiled and held the scout to him closer, never wanting to let go. Galahad ran his fingers through Tristan’s hair, pausing every so often to explore a knotted braid. Once Tristan eased off the knight and returned to staring him down, Galahad looked into Tristan’s eyes, getting lost in their brown coloring. That color had reminded Galahad of a chocolate pastry his mother would make him back at home. The memory was blurry now, but that color was burned into Galahad’s mind for the rest of his life. It was a deep mahogany color that seemed to almost glow when Tristan looked directly in Galahad’s sky blue eyes.  Galahad could still see the glaze in Tristan’s eyes from that single fallen tear. With a last quick kiss on the lips, Tristan stood up and looked around. “It is going to be getting dark in a few hours. They will wonder where we are.” Galahad nodded in agreement and dusted off his clothes as he got up from lying down, suddenly feeling cold from the absence of warmth Tristan provided him. The scout walked over to Galahad and lifted the man’s face with one strong hand, “I will always protect you.” And with that, they started the trek back to their base, Galahad feeling like he was floating the entire way.


	6. Alone

_Tristan, arrow through his chest plate, blood flowing over his wind-chapped lips. I didn’t get the archer in time. He got him. I didn't. Tristan falls to the ice, calling my name. I reach for him, but he’s too far. The ice melts around him, pulling him into the frozen lake. I try to scream, but it only comes out a whisper. My throat aches. The wind roars. I hear the Saxon’s harsh laughing. A wave of dread and loathing crash over me at the same time. I can’t breathe. The ice is claiming me as well. Maybe it’s best. Now Tristan and I will be together. Forever floating under this frozen lake._

Galahad gasped as he awoke in his bed to a hard rapping at his door. His hair was matted against his head, his body covered in sweat. Galahad evened his breathing by taking large, even breaths. _Only a nightmare._ Finally feeling calm, Galahad scratched the back of his head and yawned, stretching his arms as he did so. The young knight looked out his window to find it was still very dark, not close to sunrise at all. Before he could react, Galahad heard three more knocks on his door that sounded much louder and more urgent than the first. He squinted in the darkness and removed his covers from around him, sitting up on the edge of his bed. _What the hell?_ Another three bangs on the door told Galahad something was wrong; the young knight jumped to his feet and ran to his door across the room, swinging his door open.

“They’re here.” A fully dressed Tristan stared at Galahad from the hallway of the knight’s bed chambers. Galahad felt his breath catch in his throat. _No. They can’t be._ “Get dressed. I will wait here.” Galahad looked down at himself and realized that he was still only wearing his thin night trousers. He blushed and looked back up to Tristan. The older man showed no signs of feeling uncomfortable, so Galahad nodded his head quickly and slammed the door in an unfazed Tristan’s face. Galahad soon forgot his embarrassment and changed his mind set into that of a knight, preparing for the worst.

~

After he put on some decent clothing, Tristan escorted the still somewhat groggy Galahad to the wall where the knights were to meet. Galahad looked over the wall to see hundreds of torches and bonfires glowing in the distance. He gulped, but quickly turned his mind inwards once again to prepare for the inevitable confrontation. Tristan placed his right hand on Galahad’s neck, each of them facing the enemy army.

Arthur and Guinevere were the last arrive at the wall. As they did, their fellow knights turned and faced them, awaiting directions on how to proceed. Galahad leaned against the wall and started to scratch his beard, looking at nothing in particular. Tristan backed away and looked down to Bors who was intently staring at Arthur. Lancelot sighed and Arthur looked away from the group and turned to look down at the villagers.

“Knights, my journey with you must end here,” Lancelot shook his head at Arthur’s remark, “May God go with you.” With that, Arthur left, Lancelot following, trying to talk Arthur out of whatever he was planning. Guinevere trailed the men soon after, leaving the other knights behind on the wall.

None talked for awhile, each in their own labyrinth of their minds. Galahad put his head on the back wall and took a deep breath.

“Well, we better start preparing to leave those bastards in the dust now, eh?” The comment was supposed to be uplifting, but was heavily weighted down by Bors’ serious tone. The big man got up from his sitting position and headed down to the village to gather his horse and weapons he would need. Gawain followed, leaving Tristan and Galahad to stay pondering at the wall.

A few minutes go by and Galahad wipes his face, brushing away any remaining sleep that may be trying to catch up with him. _Although, I will be surprised if I ever sleep again._ Galahad felt the drowning sensation he had experienced in his dream, this time knowing it was much worse. This drowning was real. Face still in his hands, Galahad acknowledged Tristan, “You see, this is the part where you say everything will be fine. That we will all be fine.” After not hearing an answer Galahad looks up to see Tristan staring off into the night sky. The scout turns to stare back at the knight. Galahad reads Tristan’s mind and doesn’t ask the man to say what he is thinking out loud. The doubt clouded Tristan’s usually clear eyes. Galahad only bowed his head in agreement and moved to make his own preparations. Tristan follows, allowing the young man to feel as though he is not fully alone. This enemy is not only his, but theirs. This thought gives Galahad the strength to keep moving and gives him hope that there may actually be a slim chance that Arthur will prevail. Galahad can feel himself breathe despite his tightening throat.

~

At the break of dawn, Arthur stood with his steed, each clad in heavy armor, on the top of a hill, overlooking the now burning grounds before the wall. Gawain, Galahad, Lancelot, and Bors walked alongside the bishop’s caravan as well as the royal family’s carriage. Tristan took his place in the back with his trusted falcon on his shoulder.

“Artorius!” Bors had broken away from the group to yell up to Arthur his support, lifting his sword as he did so. Arthur mirrored Bors’ actions and shouted back at him, lifting his flag higher to show he understood the knight’s intent. Arthur then rode off himself to confront the Saxons as the other knights continued their journey with the line of carriages and guards.

After a short distance, the knights could hear the beating drums once again. Their horses began to get spooked, stopping their slow moving group. After each of the knights regained control, they all looked at each other, agreeing in a silent conversation. Tristan turned to his falcon.

“Hey,” He clicked his tongue, “You’re free.” Tristan lifted his arm and the bird flew away. Galahad felt his heart break. Bors looked to his lover and his young children. Lancelot nodded and smirked. Galahad then understood and grinned, turning to Tristan. _Let’s do this._ The scout was already off his horse and gathering his bow, testing its strength. Each knight only took a few moments to prepare and rode off as though they were one, riding towards their fate.


	7. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle! *Scenes of graphic violence*

Lancelot was first to arrive next to Arthur, showing off his famous grin; Arthur smiling in return. The other four knights rode through the smoke and took their place as equals at Arthur’s side. Each looked at one another and smirked, all of them knowing what was going to come next. The gates opened and Arthur began one of his pep talks as though this was any other battle. Bors scrunched his face in agreement at Arthur’s words. At the end of his talk, each man screamed a final, “Rus!” and speared their flags into the ground. Tristan raised his bow and squinted, aiming for a scouter hiding in a tree just beyond the wall. The arrow met its target, killing the man. The knights rode forward, traveling to meet the first wave of Saxons.  

The small group of Saxons entered the gate, grunting and chanting. Guinevere’s army took advantage of their smoke covering and attacked from the forest, releasing arrows into the air. Many Saxons were pierced by these arrows of unknown origin and killed, the remaining hiding behind their shields. Arthur and his men stormed through the smoke and began running through the Saxons, swinging their war hammers and swords as they did. Galahad let out a battle cry as he sliced off a Saxon’s arm. Tristan smiled. _Finally, he is able to see the fun in it._ This pattern of unseen arrows and knights ramming the barricade quickly caused the small Saxons army’s number to dwindle and eventually reach zero.

Although it was far from over, the knights new they had won the first round.

~

The knights heard the chanting once again and watched the Saxons as they charged through the gate. Tristan looked at Galahad’s blood covered face and gave the young knight a piercing stare, once again communicating without words. Galahad returned the look and turned to the Saxons, watching their every move. The Saxons started their own strategy, spreading out their men and sending a large group off to the right of the battlefield. Galahad watched as the Saxon leader stared directly at Arthur and commanded his men to start marching. The overwhelmingly large mass of people started to make their way towards the five knights. Tristan listened to the sound of fire-tipped arrows in the air as the Woads took on an army meant specifically for them, knowing the ground would catch fire as they did so. The sound of Guinevere’s shouting signaled to Arthur that the war had officially begun.

~

Arthur charged towards the larger part of the army with his knights following him, fireballs flying past them to scare the Saxons. As they grew closer, Tristan drew his bow and shot the first of many Saxons. Gawain followed Tristan’s lead and threw his ax at a Saxon’s face, shattering his bone structure. The screaming of more Woads told the knights that their back up was on the way and they were not alone in this battle. The only cry heard over all others was that of Bors when his ax met the flesh of his first killed Saxon.

The two armies met in a clash of screaming and the sound of swords smashing against armor. It would seem like complete chaos to an outside watcher, but the knights knew exactly what they were doing. Galahad jumped from his horse and began to beat Saxons with his shield when need be. Each hit of his shield caused the breaking of skulls or forearms trying to fend off the attack. Galahad let his hatred pulsate through him, never taking his mind off of his reason for needing to survive. Usually he thought of freedom and home, but this time, Galahad didn’t surprise himself when his mind wandered to Tristan. The young knight roared as he plunged his sword into a Saxon’s shoulder while his shield bashed in the head of another.      

Tristan climbed off his horse and kept the same collected attitude he had always retained during battle. After killing a Saxon by slicing his throat, sending an arterial spray directly onto his armor, splattering his chest in bright red; Tristan looked over to the leader of the Saxons. He knew this was the leader simply by looking at the man. The Saxon had the look of a psychopathic killer, uncaring of how many of his men fell. As long as they prevailed, their menial lives meant nothing to him. His long, dirty blond hair was caked in dried mud and was starting to mat at the ends of his unkempt main. Tristan felt he could smell the man from where he was standing. An almost decaying-like sent filled the scout’s nostrils. Once making eye contact with his enemy, Tristan walked over to the man, easily killing another Saxon in the process. He wiped his helmet off his head and stood with his sword in a stance that told the leader, _I’m ready._ The Saxon stepped forward, accepting the challenge.

Tristan took the first move, swinging at the Saxon only to have his attack blocked. Each continued to strike, but seemed matched in skills, leading to many blocked and unsuccessful actions. Tristan stared into the Saxon’s eyes and licked his lips, breathing heaving, unsure of what the Saxon was planning next.

Galahad was fighting his way through Saxons like he never had before. He dodged and struck when it was needed, no man coming close to touching him. Galahad could feel the rush of adrenaline taking over as he killed more enemies. Finding an opening, Galahad searched the crowd for his Tristan, laying eyes on him fighting the leader of the Saxons, neither of them taking the lead. Galahad growled and ran to the scout’s aid, hoping, _needing_ , to make it to Tristan in time.

Tristan continued to fight the equally-skilled Saxon with burning rage and determination in his eyes, the other man having only a blank stare. In a moment of weakness, the Saxon was able to unsheathe a small dagger and slice it into Tristan’s side. The scout winced and staggered back, but recovered quickly only pausing to see the blood leaking from his side. He returned to staring down the Saxon and regained his fighting stance. Tristan charged the man swinging his sword as fast his injured body was capable. The Saxon blocked every move and sliced Tristan once again in the same area, punching the scout in the side of the head as he went down. Tristan crouched on the ground with one hand cradling his head, the other still swinging his sword. Tristan grunted in pain and stood as the Saxon walked towards him, once again attacking with all he could give.

Galahad watched as Tristan started to lose control over the situation and tried to scream the scout’s name. All that came out of Galahad’s mouth was a small whimper as the knight huffed, still running to get to the scout. Fearing that he wouldn’t make it in time, Galahad’s eyes began to well up with tears. His vision blurred, but Galahad didn’t let his emotions get the best of him. He turned his anguish to rage and began roaring, shouting Tristan’s name. He increased his speed through the pain he felt in his overworked lungs and aching legs.

The Saxon took his small dagger and pierced Tristan’s left forearm, causing the scout to release his sword. He looked at the Saxon and retrieved his own dagger from his armor’s chest pocket. In return, the Saxon kicked Tristan’s sword to him, edging the scout on. Tristan complied, bending over to get his sword while still keeping one eye on the Saxon at all times. Instead of fully standing up, Tristan swung from his position on the ground and stepped into his attack. The Saxon grabbed Tristan’s sword, making the scout’s arm exposed; the leader then took this opportunity to jam his rusty knife into the scout’s forearm once again, this time deep enough for it to become embedded in the wound. Tristan leaned on the dagger, grunting in short bursts, beginning to see blackness fill his vision. The Saxon kicked Tristan off of the blade and caused the injured scout to land on his side. Never giving up, Tristan began to try to crawl into a standing position, never being able to raise his head off the ground. The Saxon walked over to the writhing scout and stabbed his own sword into the ground, pulling Tristan by his hair so that he was staring at the sky. As a last resort, Tristan used the last of his strength to plunge his on dagger into the shin of the Saxon leader. The Saxon replied by cutting Tristan’s arm once again and stabbing his aching side. Tristan groaned and bit his tongue.

Galahad was now only a few yards away, jumping over corpses from both armies and dodging attacks as he did so. The young knight could no longer feel his limbs and was running on pure adrenaline. Eyes focused on his target, he saw the Saxon impale the scout. Galahad yelled, flailed his sword, begged, tried anything he could do to stop the fight.

The Saxon was holding onto Tristan’s injured arm, allowing the scout’s head to lull back. Tristan wheezed and started at the sky, the darkness closing in further. Before it could take him, Tristan saw his beloved falcon circling the area above him. Tristan thought he could hear Galahad’s voice, but knew it was only wishful thinking. _I failed. My Galahad. I failed. I’m sorry I will not be here to watch you grow._ Tristan felt a tear roll down his cheek and he smiled. He thought about all the joy his bird had brought him. How it was his only family until Galahad came along. Tristan wished he could say goodbye to the young knight, but knew it was impossible. _I was the one who said death by a Saxon should not be feared. The irony._ But he knew he wasn’t frightened. Only disappointed. Tristan closed him eyes and let the darkness take over him. The Saxon looked over at Arthur and made eye contact before raising his sword to be brought down on Tristan’s neck. The Saxon pulled further on the unconscious man’s hair and brought his sword down only to be tackled to the ground before the blade met its mark.

Galahad made one final bound and charged the Saxon, knocking him over and having him release Tristan. The Saxon struggled to regain his composure, but the young knight stayed on top of him, pinning the leader to the ground. Arthur had seen what had just unfolded and rushed to Galahad’s aid. Galahad didn’t know where his sword was, probably dropped it while running, so he used his fists against the Saxons face and throat. Galahad felt his knuckles turn raw, but only pounded on the leader harder, not completely sure if it was Saxon blood appearing on the man’s face or his own.

“You take Tristan! I will handle him.” Arthur barked orders at Galahad, who was still bloodying the pinned Saxon. Arthur pulled Galahad off of the leader and whispered harshly in his ear, “He needs you.” Galahad’s eyes widened and the young knight ran over to check on Tristan.

Galahad knelt by the scout’s side and pulled Tristan unto his lap, “Please, stay with me. I can’t do this alone. Tristan, please. I need you,”Galahad felt his eyes well up in tears again, letting them finally take over, “You never even told me what your falcon’s name was, or how you two met, or how you got to be so close.” A Saxon walked up to the pair, screaming about something Galahad didn’t care about. Galahad gently placed Tristan down and stood up, killing the Saxon with one swing of his sword.

For the rest of the battle, Galahad protected Tristan, killing anyone who dared to pass the invisible fort that Galahad deemed Tristan’s safe place. The battle lasted for about ten more minutes, hundreds dying in that short amount of time. Bors came over to Galahad and looked down at Tristan; he bent to pick the scout up, but Galahad screamed at him not to touch him. Bors looked at Galahad with sorrow-filled eyes and left him to mourn.

Galahad laid his head down on Tristan’s chest, closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep himself. Galahad was exhausted and felt drained of all his energy. Hot tears continually flowed down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. Galahad put his arm around Tristan and buried his face into the man’s bloody armor. Although the stench of death is covering the scout, Galahad can still smell the cool, outdoor smell that is Tristan. A couple minutes pass with Galahad remaining perfectly still, embracing Tristan, when the knight is awoken from his state of nothingness from movement beneath his head. Galahad assumed it was someone trying to move Tristan again, but when he looked up, he saw the scout leaning on his elbows, staring down at the knight. Galahad let his mouth hang open in disbelief.

“Her name is Acheflow.” Galahad only continued to stare with a look of utter shock covering his face. Tristan coughed and winced, “Well it’s not that odd of a name. You don’t have to look at me like I named her something horrible. It means ‘white flower’.” Tristan smiled at Galahad knowing exactly what emotions were going through his mind. Galahad did eventually surprise Tristan when the young knight climbed on top of the scout and took Tristan’s bloodied mouth into his. Galahad showed no signs of being gentle with Tristan and roughly shoved his tongue inside the injured scout’s mouth. Tristan smiled through it, giving back as much as he could, but the young knight made it clear to him that he was in control. For once, Tristan was okay with that. Galahad worked his hands through Tristan’s hair as he continued to kiss the pleasantly surprised scout.

After pulling back to take a breath, Galahad stayed hovering over Tristan’s wounded body, “I thought I lost you.” Tristan smiled and winced once again causing a now embarrassed Galahad to apologize for his actions. Tristan just shook his head and told Galahad to help him stand up.

The couple hobbled to where the other knights were standing, Tristan leaning on Galahad for support. Arthur and Guinevere were knelt next to a fallen Lancelot, Bors and Gawain standing behind them. It was clear that Arthur had already made his peace from his now reddened face. He turned to face the returning knights and told Tristan how grateful he was that Galahad was there to save him in time. Tristan nodded and each said their condolences. Galahad knew they had won the war, but he wondered at what cost. He thought of a life without Tristan and shivered causing the scout to hold him closer. Galahad gave a sad smile and said his goodbyes to Lancelot. The group headed back to their home and began to prepare for the funeral.

~

Lancelot’s funeral felt a lot like Dagonet’s, each man feeling as though they were missing a part of themselves. A few days had passed since the battle, but none felt any better about the loss. Galahad handed a torch to Arthur and returned to Tristan’s side, the scout taking the smaller man into his arms. Arthur said a few last words and lit the grave on fire. The knights knew this was an end to an era, but they also knew this was a beginning to a new one. An era that allowed them freedom thanks to those who gave their lives for the cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this. Its pretty much all fluff :)


	8. The Wedding

It was now a month since Lancelot’s funeral and the knights found themselves slowly returning to normal. Although they knew they would never be able to fill the void that Lancelot left, the men did know they needed to work around it and continue life as usual. The remaining five knights decided to remain living behind the walls where the battle took place until after the marriage of Arthur and Guinevere.

The night before the wedding, Galahad was wide awake, staring up at his ceiling. He thought of Tristan as he always did and felt nervous. _This is going to be our first time together in public. Well, at least open about our relationship in public. Shit. I wonder how everyone will take it._ Galahad tossed and turned in his small cot until he heard knocking come from the other side of the door. The last time this had happened, Saxons were at the front gate.

Galahad jumped up from his bed and ran to the door, opening it all too quickly. His fears dissipated when he saw Tristan in long pants and no shoes, his eyes glazed over in a state of relaxation. Galahad’s fear quickly turned to embarrassment when he realized he was, once again, under dressed. He went to slam the door, but Tristan’s foot wedged in the doorframe, preventing it from closing.

“May I come in?” Galahad nodded once and opened the door fully. Tristan walked in and plopped down on Galahad’s bed, motioning for the knight to join him. Galahad froze in place and refused to move.

“What-, uh, what are you doing?” Galahad scratched his head and looked down to the floor. He heard a soft chuckle coming from his bed.

“I can’t sleep. Figured you felt the same,” Tristan paused and tilted his head, “Was I mistaken?” Galahad shook his head slowly. “Good. Then come lay by me.” Galahad did what he was told, but adamantly avoided the scout’s gaze. He lay down next to Tristan, the scout pulling a thin blanket over the pale body of the knight. Tristan wrapped his arms around Galahad’s waist and pulled him closer. The knight began to shake and the scout smiled in return. Tristan bent his head down to gain access to Galahad’s neck and kissed the young man, sending more shivers down his spine. Galahad sighed and wrapped his own arms around Tristan’s scarred body. Galahad could feel his tension melting away with each kiss. Tristan looked into the knight’s eyes and gave him a peck on the lips.

“Goodnight.” Tristan turned over and immediately fell asleep. Galahad watched Tristan, dumbfounded for a moment at the hasty parting of bodies, and then laughed, hunkering down so he could find sleep as well. Galahad whispered a quick ‘goodnight’ and listened to Tristan’s rhythmic breathing until he could fall asleep himself.

~

Arthur and Guinevere could not have picked a more perfect day for their wedding. The sky was a bright blue with only unimposing, fluffy clouds in sight. The small breeze coming up from the ocean and onto the cliff granted relief to the patrons on the hot summer day. Guests stood around the couple and admired the landscape.

Guinevere herself looked absolutely stunning. Galahad was amazed at how beautiful she could appear after seeing the young woman in her battle attire. Arthur stood by her, standing proud in his most regal armor and had his usual look of determination on his face. Galahad smiled at the two, knowing they would be very happy together. _If anyone can keep Arthur in check, it’s Guinevere._ Galahad looked to Tristan who was standing on the other side of the semi-circle the guests had made. The scout was petting his falcon perched on his shoulder and softly whispering to the bird. Galahad quickly looked away, feeling as though he saw something he shouldn’t have. He returned his gaze to the couple to see Guinevere drinking from a cup and handing off to Arthur.

Tristan coaxed his falcon to sit on his forearm and brought it into the crook of his arm. He continued to pet the bird and cradled it like an infant. Almost losing his friend made Tristan realize how important his bird was to him, as well as a certain young knight. Tristan looked over to Galahad to see the knight wearing the most sincere grin on his face. Tristan followed Galahad’s gaze to the couple and gave a smile of his own. Tristan gave the bird a final pat on the head and held his arm out, allowing the falcon to take flight.

“Arthur. Guinevere. Our people are one. As you are.” Guinevere looked to the leader of the Woads, then back to Arthur. The knight smiled as Guinevere put her hand on his shoulder. The couple kissed and the crowd cheered. Galahad clapped and looked over to Tristan. The scout smiled back. Guinevere and Arthur turned to acknowledge the crowd and the leader continued, “King Arthur!”

The crowd responded, “Hail, Arthur!” and knelt down out of respect.

“Let every man, woman, and child bear witness that from this day all Britons will be united in one common cause.” Arthur drew his sword and pointed it to the sky. His knights followed and stood up, mirroring the King’s actions. Guinevere grabbed Arthur’s sword-wielding hand and showed her support.

The crowd cheered once again and began chanting Arthur’s name. The new king pointed his sword toward the ocean as archers sent flaming arrows over the side of the hill. Tristan lowered his sword and turned to Galahad. The young knight was smiling and talking to Gawain until he felt eyes piercing the side of his face. He turned to see the scout giving him a sly smirk. Galahad grinned wide, his face hurting from smiling so much and ran over to Tristan. The scout gave a surprised, “Oomf,” as the young knight jumped into his arms. Galahad lowered his head and placed his forehead on Tristan’s.

“Well,” Tristan clicked his tongue, “I guess there is no question of our relations now.”

“Hmm, not quite,” Galahad closed the space between the two and kissed Tristan as the scout lowered the knight to his feet. Galahad pulled away and looked into the chocolate eyes he had come to highly adore, “Now there isn’t.” Tristan laughed and the pair turned to their fellow knights, Tristan’s arm wrapped around Galahad’s shoulder. Gawain smiled and Bors nodded his head.

“I knew it! Gawain, pay up.” Bors held out his hand in front of Gawain’s face as he placed a coin into the loud man’s hand. Bors kissed the coin and put it into his chest pocket. Guinevere laughed and walked over to the couple.

“Congratulations,” Tristan gave a small bow and Galahad smiled, giving the new queen congratulations as well. Tristan lowered his arm around Galahad’s waist, finally able to fully claim what was his. Galahad placed his head on Tristan’s shoulder, hearing a bird’s screech in the distance. The falcon swooped down and landed itself onto Galahad’s shoulder. Galahad froze in fear of scaring the bird. Tristan could feel Galahad start to shake and chuckled, rubbing the nervous Galahad’s back to calm him down.

“She likes you.” Galahad looked back over to Tristan and laughed along with him as the bird he now knew as Acheflow nuzzled Galahad’s neck. Galahad tentatively lifted his hand to pet Acheflow, the bird leaning into the touch. Tristan smiled and acknowledged Galahad, “Welcome to the family.”

~The End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you liked it! :D


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